


cause imma taste this shot (then i might taste you)

by weird_situation



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Body Shots, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weird_situation/pseuds/weird_situation
Summary: There’s only one way to celebrate your teammate getting five goals in a single game.





	cause imma taste this shot (then i might taste you)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written on my phone at work so i’m blaming any mistakes on that. 
> 
> this was encouraged by steph and hailey and rebecca and therefore not entirely my fault 
> 
> title from body shots by kaci battaglia

There was winning, and then there was winning because one of your teammates scored five fucking goals against the Capitals. There was no keeping the team from celebrating Sergei singlehandedly kicking the Capitals’ asses even if management wanted to.

Steve was at the bar, a pleasant buzz starting to make itself known, trying to get more pitchers of beer for the table when someone grabbed his arm.

“Stevie! Shots!” Vladdie had come up behind him out of nowhere and dragged him back to their booth.

Reaching for one of the shot glasses on the table, Steve let out a startled “hey!” when Vladdie slapped his hand away.

“Stevie. Body shots. Need body. Seryozha!”

Oh. Oh no.

Steve was in no way prepared to see Sergei smirk as he climbed onto a hastily cleared table, the rest of the team laughing uproariously.

Sergei had stripped his shirt off somewhere between his fourth and fifth shot (“Five shots for five goals!”). Steve laughed with everyone else about it at the time, but now that Vladdie was insisting on body shots, he’d wished Sergei had kept his shirt on.

If it were possible to combust at the sight of the world’s most perfect abs — well Steve would have died long before now. But it was different seeing Sergei in the locker room and seeing him laughing as he settled in on the table, waiting for Steve to put his mouth on him.

He wasn’t sure how they’d even gotten to this point; if anything Sergei should be the one doing body shots since he was the one with the five goal night. Fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing Steve had seen Sergei do.

But here they were, god knows how many drinks later, Sergei on the table, his gold chain glinting whenever the dim club lighting hit it properly, and Ozzie smirking as he handed Steve the salt shaker, all the other guys shouting encouragement. Well, from what Steve could make out it was encouragement. Mostly it was unintelligible.

Steve snatched the salt from Ozzie’s hand and stepped closer, elbowing Shanny out of the way. He was determinedly not focusing on the cut of Sergei’s abs and the trail of hair disappearing into his stupidly tight pants.

Biting his lip, Steve’s eyes flicked up towards Sergei’s face and god he wished he hadn’t done that. Sergei’s eyes were burning into Steve’s, a challenge in them and the way he raised his eyebrow. Off guard, Steve blinked and turned his attention to Sergei’s chest, trying to decide the best placement for the salt.

Sergei’s stomach was the obvious choice — but Steve didn’t think he could stand being that close to Sergei’s dick and not getting to put his mouth on it. Same with his collarbone. Steve ached to bite at where Sergei’s neck met his shoulders and being that close and not being able to would be torture. His chest wasn’t really any better, because like every inch of Sergei it was perfect, but Steve wasn’t haunted by thoughts of Sergei’s pecs at night, so it would have to do.

Ignoring the jeers of the guys around him, Steve licked his thumb to wet Sergei’s chest. He wasn’t stupid; he knew if he put his mouth on Sergei anymore than strictly necessary things would get out of hand. Sergei shivered as Steve’s thumb swiped across the top of his pec. Shaking the salt over the damp streak on Sergei’s chest, Steve took a deep breath.

“Is anyone going to give me a shot?” God when did his voice get so raspy?

Surprisingly it was Nick who handed him the shot, shrugging his shoulders at the look Steve gave him.

“Lime in mouth, yes?” Sergei’s voice startled Steve a little.

“Yeah, buddy, bite down on the lime,” he answered, ready to get this over with so he could escape the club and go home and jerk off guiltily to the thought of Sergei spread out just for him.

Taking a deep breath, Steve leaned down, licked the salt off Sergei’s chest, tossed back his shot, and bit the lime right out of Sergei’s mouth as fast as he possibly could. He tossed the lime rind at a scoffing Vladdie, while everyone else cheered. Sergei sat up, a wide grin on his face as he tossed back the shot someone had pressed into his hand.

“You do body shots like _Canadian_.” Vladdie shook his head in mock disappointment. “Soviet body shots best, watch.” Shoving Steve out of the way, he tossed another lime wedge at Sergei who caught it easily and obligingly laid back down, laughing around the lime in his mouth.

Vladdie had no shame as he licked right across Sergei’s nipple to wet it for the salt. Shaking his hips about as much as he was shaking the salt, Vladdie finished prepping Sergei for the shot.

“Now. Watch how real body shot works.”

It was certainly more showy than Steve’s had been, Vladdie dramatically bending over to lick the salt with a smirk before taking the shot. The look he gave Steve before biting the lime in Sergei’s mouth was nothing short of a dare, as was the lime rind thrown at his head before Vladdie planted a smacking kiss on Sergei’s mouth.

Steve rolled his eyes, but clapped along with the other guys.

“Again?” Sergei asked Steve, pushing up to lean on his elbows. His hair was wild around his face, tangled and covered in god knows what from the table, but fuck if he wasn’t still gorgeous. Steve was in no way prepared to resist him.

“Again.”

Vladdie whooped and crashed into Steve, giving him a rough hug before pressing the salt shaker back into his hand. “Do proper Russian shot, yes? Yes.”

Since it seemed unlikely Steve would get away with anything less than a proper Russian shot, then yes. He was going to do it to Vladdie’s satisfaction.

Sergei grabbed the lime wedge Shanny held out to him, maintaining eye contact with Steve as he put in between his teeth, lips settling around the edges. He only broke their gaze when he shifted to lay back down, the muscles in his stomach tightening and drawing Steve’s attention. He slightly regretted not getting his mouth on them when he had the chance.

“C’mon Stevie boy, show them how Canadians do shots!” Shanny yelled, words only slurring slightly which was impressive considering the amount of alcohol he’d had.

Steve huffed out a laugh despite himself, and rolled the salt shaker between his hands before stepping back over to the table.

“Ready?” he asked Sergei quietly enough that he wasn’t sure he would even be heard. But Sergei’s eyes sparkled and he nodded slightly, glancing down towards his chest as if to say “get on with it”.

And get on with it Steve did. Placing a hand on the table next to Sergei’s hip, he leaned down and licked a path over Sergei’s nipple, resisted the temptation to scrape his teeth over it as well, and straightened up. He shook his head and then the salt, trying not to focus on how Sergei’s nipple had stiffened up under his mouth.

Steve found himself tuning out the catcalls of his team as he caught Sergei’s eye. Feeling emboldened by the look in his eye, Steve braced his arms on either side of Sergei’s hips this time, practically covering his body with his own. He leaned down, only breaking eye contact at the last possible moment, tongue dragging over the salt, lips coming together in the lightest press of a kiss once Steve reached the end of it. He stood up to toss the shot back almost as an afterthought before pressing down on Sergei again, eyes open and locked with his as he leaned in to take the lime from his mouth. Teeth broke through and acidic juice burst into Steve’s mouth as he pulled away from Sergei, sucking the last of the juice out of the lime before throwing it at a laughing Vladdie.

“Fuck yeah, Canada!” Shanny yelled, apparently approving of Steve’s newly improved body shot skills. Steve just laughed and high fived him when Shanny held his hand up.

Despite the team’s chatter and insistence on doing more — regular this time — shots, Steve was hyper aware of Sergei crawling off the table behind him.

Someone pressed a beer into his hand and Steve drank it gratefully, accepting the back slaps from the team like he’d done something impressive rather than just putting his mouth all over a teammate. He felt someone’s hand ghost across his back and looking over he saw Sergei making his way out of the mass of Wings, still shirtless. Sergei raised an eyebrow at Steve and then jerked his head, clearly wanting Steve to come with him.

Steve followed Sergei, of course he did. It didn’t matter what he wanted, Sergei always had Steve. He almost walked right past him, Sergei hiding in a dark corner by the coat check. Only Sergei’s hand reaching out to pull him in kept Steve from missing him.

“Didn’t finish your shot,” Sergei teased, hand still around Steve’s wrist.

Brow furrowed, Steve looked up at Sergei. He was pretty sure he’d finished the shot, considering the tequila and lime he could still taste at the back of his throat.

“Stepka,” sighed Sergei, as though Steve was missing the obvious. “Forgot kiss.”

And then he was leaning down, Steve’s hands twitching when their lips first touched, only to tangle themselves in Sergei’s hair and pull him closer. He wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, only that his lips had parted for Sergei without hesitation and he could taste the sharpness of all the limes that had been sitting in Sergei’s mouth all night.

Sergei’s hands slipped around Steve’s waist and pulled him against his still bare chest, sticky with salt and booze. Steve grunted and bit down lightly on Sergei’s lip, drawing a small whine from the other man that went directly to his dick.

Too soon they pulled apart, both breathing harshly. Steve gently pulled his hands from Sergei’s hair, smoothing it down and tucking it behind his ears.

“Russian shots best, yes?” asked Sergei with a soft smile, hands sliding to cup Steve’s hips, keeping him in place.

“Consider me a fan,” Steve laughed, and pressed a kiss to Sergei’s neck, catching the chain too, the sharp metallic tang mixing with the salty sweat of Sergei’s skin, before pulling away reluctantly. Soon their team would come looking for them and a club wasn’t the place for all the things Steve wanted to do to Sergei anyway. “Come back to mine and do a few more? You got five goals and I only did two shots off of you. Doesn’t seem fair.”

He held his breath as Sergei gave him a considering look. Any doubts about asking left as Sergei leaned down to give him a filthy kiss before pushing him away.

“Need my shirt,” he said before turning back to the main club floor. “But yes! Owe me shots!” he called out before walking away.

Steve grinned down at his feet before going to gather their coats. Hopefully he had limes at home.

**Author's Note:**

> yes that game was chosen for specific reasons


End file.
